


Providence

by Valentia



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Coming In Pants, Consensual Kink, Daddy Issues, Declarations Of Love, Dry Humping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Love Bites, Love Confessions, M/M, Marking, Mild Kink, Neck Kissing, No Sex, Orgasm, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Smut, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 14:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10855563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentia/pseuds/Valentia
Summary: Alex has no idea how he got into this situation, kissing Justin Foley like a starving man. The truth is, he doesn't care. Alex tried to kill himself and weeks later, Justin's there.





	Providence

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :)  
> This happened because I rewatched 13 Reasons Why and I'm obsessed with the thought of Alex and Justin. I think they could really be good for each other after all the stuff with Hannah is over. Also I needed to write something with Alex having mild daddy issues, because he has. Probably. Maybe. Ask Justin.  
> As always excuse any mistakes, I'm not a native speaker but I did my best. Please point mistakes out to me!  
> Comments and kudos are really appreciated and I would love to hear from you, even if you didn't like the fic. Everything helps!  
> Have fun reading, people. :3

The truth is, Alex doesn't remember how he got into this situation.

The truth is, Alex has no idea how it happened that Justin Foley has his hands all over him. That he's kissing him. That he lies buried underneath Justin Foley's lean body in his own bed, clinging at the muscles of his back, licking greedily into his mouth like a man desperate for air. He doesn't care that he's actually not getting any. He's tried to drown himself in a pool once, the feeling of being out of breath is almost normal for him now.

Alex doesn't remember how he got into this situation, and the truth is, he doesn't really care either. He just _feels_ – feels Justin nipping at his lower lip, kissing his way down his chin and neck and collarbone until he's biting and sucking and Alex is gasping and buries his hand in Justin's hair. It's all too much, all too much for the void that he's usually feeling inside of him, too much to process and too much to wrap his head around. Thinking is too much. So he tries not do, tries not to think about what's gonna happen after this.

Justin makes it easy for him.

Alex has always thought Justin is hot. Hell, a blind man knows that Justin Foley is hot, and right now Alex feels like he sets his insides on fire. There are sparks underneath his skin where Justin kisses him, bites him, marks him up. Alex moans. He can't not.

It's all too much.

Alex' hands find their way underneath Justin's shirt, his nails that he's always used to chew on as a kid are scratching over Justin's back and he sure hopes the marks are gonna stay. He can feel Justin breathe against his neck, can feel him slowly, oh so slowly move his hips against Alex', can hear him sigh as Alex runs his fingers roughly down his back again.

“Jesus, fuck, Standall, you wanna make me bleed?”

It doesn't sound like a joke, Alex can hear doubt in his voice. He shakes his head, until he realizes Justin can't possibly see that.

“No.”

He never wants to make anyone bleed ever again.

He closes his eyes.

Justin's mouth is making its way further down his naked body. Alex doesn't recall taking off his shirt, but it doesn't matter. It only matters that he feels hot and scorched and desperate and that he's rock hard in his jeans and that Justin's mouth isn't down far enough.

Justin licks his way down Alex' stomach and suddenly Alex feels the need to cover himself up. He's never been pretty, but right now? He feels disgusting. He's too thin and his skin is white and his ribs probably show and it's Justin Foley lying on top of him – everyone's automatically uglier when they're with Justin.

“Stop thinking, idiot.”

Sometimes Alex wonders when they became so close that Justin seems to be able to read his mind.

“Shut up, Foley.”

Justin moves back up, leaning in to kiss, but he stops right before their lips touch and Alex sees him grin and feels his breath against his mouth as he says,

“Make me.”

So he does. He kisses Justin like he's never kissed anyone before, thinking about how horribly, horribly cliché that line just was, and how fucking in love he is with this boy.

Because he is. In love with Justin. Not that that matters.

Alex keeps clawing at his back, switching between pulling Justin closer and pushing himself up. When he does, Justin just completely falls down on him and Alex doesn't fucking care because Justin doesn't weigh much anyway and the way he's trapped beneath him makes him feel a little less scared. Scared of who knows what. It's fucked up. (Love is always fucked up, that's one thing Alex Standall knows for sure.)

Justin eventually starts rutting against him again, sighing into Alex' mouth, and Alex takes those little whimpers and moans in and answers by pushing his hips up to meet him halfway. Alex has actually no idea where they're going – or where they started for that matter – but he feels too good to worry. Besides, it's not like someone could get pregnant this time. Justin doesn't seem to mind either. He pushes one leg between Alex', uses it to steady himself so he can thrust harder and faster and Alex gets lost in the fire and the burn and Justin's hands _in his hair at his neck on his stomach at his hips everywhere._

Alex didn't know he'd be able to feel that way ever again after everything that's happened. After he's gotten out of the hospital. Gotten out _alive_ , his mind tells him, because he's a fucking _loser_ who didn't even manage to shoot himself in the head properly.

But... Justin has been there one day, weeks and weeks later on his doorstep, asking if he could crash again, with a black eye and a bruise in the shape of a hand around his neck. And Alex thought, if he can't make himself happy, maybe he can at least make Justin happy.

Turns out, it's the other way around.

“Fucking hell, Alex, get your fucking nails cut or somethin'.”

That's one way to get him back to reality.

“Shit, sorry.”

He pulls his hands back and then decides to put them on Justin's waist instead. He can feel him grin against his lips.

“I know you like it rough, Standall, but I didn't know you were a sadist.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but he's just thinking about the way Justin's voice sounds so fucking wrecked and raw just from kissing and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. He really needs to get some sort of release really fucking soon.

“I'm not a sadist, and you don't know me much, either.”

Justin opens his mouth as if he wants to reply, but Alex is faster and then they're kissing again and whatever Justin wanted to say just vanishes into thin air. They're back at moaning, licking, rocking against each other, chasing more and more and more because it's all too much and not enough.

It's when Justin moans his name that Alex almost comes on the spot. The sound sticks in his mind, dirty and desperate and so fucking unreal. He can't quite grasp it. Justin Foley isn't supposed to moan Alex Standall's name in this goddamn world, but he does, and fuck, if it doesn't make Alex lose his shit.

“Get your fucking shirt off, Foley.”

In any other situation Alex is sure Justin wouldn't comply, just because he doesn't like people telling him what to do, but right now Justin is almost ripping his shirt off, pulling it over his head and throwing it across the room. He's on Alex again within a heartbeat, back to kissing his neck and marking him up, and Alex asks himself if Justin's still sane because how the fuck is he supposed to cover up a thousand bruises?! But then again, it's Justin, and Alex has never felt like he belonged to someone as much as he feels he belongs to Justin (even if that is the most childish and stupid thought ever) and the truth is, he loves this. He loves Justin on top of him, burying him underneath his body. He loves Justin licking into his mouth, pulling at his hair, marking him up so Alex is gonna remember who he belongs to when he's looking at himself in the mirror next time. Alex loves not giving a shit when it's Justin.

He almost doesn't dare to think this, but he feels safe. And cared for. But then again, in this household, he doesn't really have anything to compare it to.

Justin's skin is warm as their chests bump. Alex knows he's muscled and has a great body, he's seen it often enough in the boys' locker room at school, but it's a whole different story feeling those muscles move against him, feeling their bodies pressed together so tight and damp and _perfect_. He could never do that with a girl, he'd hurt her, but Alex knows Justin has ruined him for all women anyway. And men. Justin has ruined him for anyone, really.

“Keep going,” is all that Alex is capable of getting out between kisses. He's so fucking hard by now he thinks he's going to explode.

They both have their jeans still on and Alex' belt is uncomfortably pressing into his skin, but Justin just does what he's told and Alex wouldn't fucking stop this if the house was on fire. He'd probably not even notice if it was. He can clearly feel Justin's dick pressing against his own through their clothes, he can almost feel it twitch as he lets his hand travel down and cups Justin's ass to push him down harder. He's close, they're close, and Alex doesn't want this to end at the same time as he just wants to fucking come in his pants already. He doesn't know how long they've been going at it, doesn't know when they've had the unspoken agreement that they'd actually take it this far. But there's no going back now, anyway.

Alex feels Justin's thigh and cock rubbing at his groin, he feels Justin's hands in his hair and clawing at his shoulder and he hears Justin moan his name into his mouth and he's sure this is how he's going to die in the end. No fucking gun, no fucking killing himself. Just Justin Foley.

“You close?” Justin asks.

It's just too much.

“Yeah... yeah... _ah_ , just... _yeah._ ”

Justin changes his angle a bit, takes Alex' leg that it not trapped between his own and wraps it around his waist so they can get even closer. Alex digs his foot into his back and pulls Justin even harder down on him, harder against him. There's heat everywhere and his skin is sweaty and his back hurts and his lips feel sore and Alex feels more alive than he ever has before.

“You like that, Standall?”

Alex isn't exactly sure what Justin's talking about, but his answer would stay the same even if he knew. “Yeah, _fuck_ , yeah.”

“You gonna come?”

Alex wants to say _“What's with the fucking questions, Foley, this some sort of interrogation?”_ , but all that comes out is “Yes, yes, _yes, shit, yeah._ ” and Justin moans against his lips.

Justin keeps going, and Alex can feel it coming, can feel himself losing control. His cock is so hard and twitching and hurting and his pants are damp from all the pre-come and he can't fucking do anything than cry out Justin's name.

“Say it, Standall.”

He's so _so_ close.

“Say it. I wanna hear it.”

Justin's gone at this point, too. Alex doesn't think he knows what he's saying anymore.

“Say it, _fuck, Alex._ ”

It's too much. It's all too much.

He moans it against Justin's lips. “I'm gonna come, _fuck–_ ”

“Are you?”

As if he would fucking lie about this shit right now.

“Yeah, _fuck_ , I'm gonna– _ah–_ ”

And he feels it, feels all the heat in his body traveling down to his groin. He feels his cock swell up that one last bit, and then there's Justin's dick pressing against his one last time and then he says,

“I'm coming... _Sir._ ”

And that's fucking it.

Alex comes so hard he feels like he's gonna black out. His cock is pulsing violently in his pants and his fingers dig into Justin's back so hard he's crying out in pain, and Alex is biting down hard on his neck while his whole body shakes and burns. It's too fucking much but it's _so good._

Alex feels like he's coming for an eternity. He looses track of space and time and when he's finally got nothing else to give, his cock throbs and twitches one last time and he feels so fucking spent he thinks he's gonna fall asleep right then and there.

But that's when he hears Justin moan.

“Fuck, Alex, just, _fuck–_ ”

He's on edge, Alex can feel it, and he's way past the point of caring, so all he does is push his hips up against Justin's one last time and whispers,

“Will you come for me, Sir?”

And Justin does. He moans Alex' name against his lips and his hips stutter as he rides out his orgasm. It makes Alex curse under his breath, because his cock is just too sensitive now for any more friction, but he holds Justin all the way through, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his lips over and over again, breathing in everything that's Justin, from the smell of cheap cigarettes to sweat to aftershave to his very own scent that Alex notices every time he's around him.

It takes Justin a while to calm down, but when he does, he's smiling. They're not kissing anymore, Justin is resting his forehead on Alex' shoulder and Alex can feel his shaky breath against his skin. He can't quite believe they did that.

“I can't believe we did that.”

It's probably not the smoothest thing to say, or the most romantic, but romance is dead anyway and Alex has never been smooth, either.

Justin huffs a laugh. “Yeah, me neither.”

He wants to prop himself up on his elbows and manages it at the second try, arms still shaking. Alex is glad he's not the only one who can't feel his body anymore.

On a side note, Justin looks really fucking beautiful being wrecked.

Alex has some time to examine him, taking in the glint in his eyes and his swollen, pink lips, his red cheeks and ruffled hair. His neck that now has a mark in the shape of Alex' teeth at one side. Fuck. Justin leans in to kiss and Alex meets him halfway. It's a chaste kiss, just the firm press of lips, but in a way it's more intimate than when Justin made him come in his pants. It's weird, he thinks.

“Alex?”

Justin is still lying on top of him, their legs tangled. His hands are stroking up and down Alex' sides and Alex' fingers are busy parting the strands of Justin's smooth hair. He feels kind of disgusting with drying come in his pants, but he also knows he won't move as long as he can hold Justin like that.

“Yeah?”

He can see Justin starting to grin. “You called me Sir.”

Alex closes his eyes. Fuck. Fucking hell. What the fuck.

“I did?”

“Yes, you did.”

Well, shit. Great. Not only does he apparently have some daddy issues, but now Justin's gonna mock him with that for the rest of his life. Not that it could really get any worse.

“Whatever, Foley, shut up.”

He turns his head and closes his eyes. Justin is studying his face and he can't stand it.

“That was hot.”

Justin sounds half embarrassed, half turned on as he says it, and Alex thinks he hasn't heard correctly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Alex turns back at him and looks for some sign of this being a joke, but all he finds in his eyes is lust.

“You liked it?”

This is starting to become some weird, twisted shit. Alex thinks he might be addicted to that.

“Well, I came, didn't I?”

That's all Justin says before he's back at kissing Alex and Alex stops thinking and just wraps his hands around him and kisses back. This is definitely some weird, twisted shit they've got going on, but Alex loves it.

He wants to say it.

He thinks he has nothing to lose.

So he does.

“I love you.”

It's so quiet. Alex breathes.

Justin, in return, stops. He falters, and Alex can feel him move above him. _That's it_ , he thinks, _that's it, I ruined it, he's gonna leave, I ruined it and he'll hate me and we'll never talk again and I'm a fucking loser and–_

“I know.”

Justin's mouth is at his ear. He moved so he's rather sitting on his hips now, it's more comfortable and Alex just now feels that his right leg is tingling and completely dead.

“I like you, too, Standall.” He laughs. “Even though you're really fucking weird.” And as if he suddenly realizes what he said he adds, “The good kind of weird.”

Alex' heart is ready to jump out of his fucking chest.

“You're weird yourself, Foley.”

Justin kisses the skin beneath his ear. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Alex shrugs. “I guess so.”

“You guess so... uh-huh.”

Justin goes back to kissing Alex' mouth, but after a while they're both smiling too hard for it to be an actual kiss anymore. They look at each other. The sun has started to set and in the red and orange glow Alex can see dust in his hair and the shadow of his eyelashes on his cheeks.

“You know you stare a lot, right?”

Alex asks himself if Justin's ever going to stop making fun of him, even in the nice way.

“Don't think too much of it.”

Justin clicks his tongue. “Never.” He grins.

He moves again to sit up and that's when Alex decides he really needs to get out of those pants and clean himself up. “I'm just gonna go to the bathroom,” he says while pulling his legs from where Justin's sitting on his thighs.

“Sure. I'm gonna wait.”

Alex gets up and takes a new pair of boxers from his closet before throwing a second pair at Justin who catches them easily. “So, you're not gonna leave through the window, then?” He doesn't know if it's meant as a joke.

Justin shakes his head. And he's got _that_ smile on his lips. That goddamn smile that had been the beginning of the end for Hannah Baker. Alex is sure it's the beginning of _his_ end, too.

“No, Alex, I won't leave you.”

They look at each other and Alex shoots him a quick smile before he opens the door and leaves for the bathroom.

It's all too much.

There's a mirror above the sink and Alex forgets how to breathe when he looks at his neck. He imagines Justin's back. He traces his fingers over the marks on his collar bone and feels his heart beat in his chest.

He feels alive.

_God damn Justin Foley._

He cleans himself up and dresses, still no shirt on, then goes back to his room. Justin's still there as he promised, sitting at the end of his bed, looking at him.

“Shit, man, your neck...”

Alex huffs a laugh. “Looks better than your back, probably. Sorry for that.”

Justin gets up to leave for the bathroom, but he stops when he's in front of Alex. “Just give me a warning next time.”

_Next time._

“Yes, Sir.” He grins.

“Fucking idiot,” Justin says with a laugh and kisses him deep and long before he eventually lets go and leaves Alex alone in his room. He doesn't shut the door behind him and as he walks away, Alex can see his back. Long, thick, red scratch marks all over it.

He sits on his bed where he can still feel the heat of their bodies and waits patiently for Justin to come back.

The truth is, Alex Standall has no fucking idea how he got into this situation, but it doesn't really matter because it's in the past, and for the first time in a very long time he feels like it's the _future_ that he's looking forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that a lot of background information on their situation is missing, but it was one of those fics where I rather just wrote than thought, so it just became this little moment ripped from their time together. For me, Alex' parents are gone for a few days and Justin stays over for a couple days and this happened one day. Also Jessica and Justin broke up and Alex doesn't have any brain damage from his suicide attempt (obviously). Maybe I'll add it into the fic, but I probably won't, so here you go. :) I promise, next time there's gonna be less plot holes. Also I feel like I neglected Justin and his past and stuff here, but... it was late at night, okay?


End file.
